


Always Read the Fine Print

by ghostgirl19



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: F/M, Post-Blades of the Yiga, Pre-Calamity, Romance, love potion, zelink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:54:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27004657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostgirl19/pseuds/ghostgirl19
Summary: The Gerudo waves the love potion temptingly in the air, carefree, as if she already knows what the princess will choose. The possibility is highly likely.“So? What will it be, Princess?”
Relationships: Link/Zelda (Legend of Zelda)
Comments: 30
Kudos: 148





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This fic will be much like my other fic, Of Crickets and Flowers and Fraud, in terms of length. I estimate only about 2, maybe 3 chapters for this story. I hope you enjoy! :)

“You’re a far way from home, Princess.”

Zelda freezes mid-step. Slowly, she turns in the darkened alley to face an elderly Gerudo sitting cross-legged on a ragged blanket with frayed edges. A glint in her luminous green eyes hint at a cleverness that one of her age and experience should possess. Her white lipstick is cracked on her lips as she offers a grin to the stunned princess.

“How do you know who I am?”

The lavender veil covering the lower portion of her face had worked in concealing her identity, up until now that is. Garbed in the traditional clothing of the Gerudo, Zelda had successfully integrated herself in town with no one the wiser to her true identity. To the rest of the Gerudo, Zelda was just a normal Hylian girl, perhaps on a vacation. 

She knows the risks of venturing out alone, especially given the _last_ time that happened—come to think of it, Link would definitely be upset if he knew she was out in town in the middle of the night—but Zelda is nothing if not stubborn. One bad incident wasn’t going to deter her from getting away from the stifling air of her station once in a while.

Besides, it wasn’t as if she was leaving the walls of Gerudo Town. She was still safe. If a Yiga tried to get in, the guards would raise enough fuss that would serve as a warning for her to rush back into the safety of Urbosa’s palace.

No one looked twice at Zelda as she thoroughly explored the town…well, excluding the zealous merchants harking at her to buy their wares. For once, she didn’t have to worry about constant eyes judging her every move. For once, she was a normal Hylian.

Until this elderly Gerudo exposed her. How she saw through Zelda’s disguise, she didn’t know. She just hoped that she’d be kind enough not to raise an alarm about it.

The Gerudo snickers at her question, allowing Zelda a glimpse into a mouth devoid of a few teeth, a further testament to the woman’s age.

“You cannot fool me, Your Highness. Those lovely green eyes and that radiant blonde hair can be recognized anywhere.”

Zelda’s breath hitches in her throat as she shakily reaches up to finger a lock of said hair. Has anyone else recognized her? Was there already a platoon of guards searching every corner for her?

The Gerudo, sensing her unease, smirks. “Do not fret, Princess. These young’uns aren’t yet keen enough to notice things out of their pitiful circle of concerns.” She pauses to roll her eyes. “All they care about these days are drinks and snagging a voe.”

Zelda breathes a sigh of relief. She’s aware in the back of her mind that she could’ve thrown her weight, so to speak, and order the woman not to breathe a word of her appearance tonight to another soul. But, throughout Zelda’s experience in being the Crown Princess, she’s learned that she has a better chance of getting what she wants when she doesn’t have to make a direct order. After all, you caught more flies with courser bee honey rather than vinegar.

“Speaking of voes,” the elder woman says, suggestively trailing off.

Zelda’s brows knit together, wondering where she’s going with this.

The Gerudo’s jade green eyes gleam deviously, illuminated by the full moon’s ethereal light pooling into the mostly abandoned alleyway. A cool wind blows past Zelda, eliciting a shiver from the princess. If she sneaks out again, she’ll be sure to wear a warmer disguise befitting the temperature drop at night.

“That knight of yours,” she says, and Zelda shudders for a different reason. Her stomach sinks when the Gerudo’s lips curl into a mischievous smirk. “The handsome voe hardly ever takes his eyes off you. I’m surprised you managed to escape his vigilance tonight.”

Zelda’s cheeks warm at the insinuation, but she shrugs to appear unaware of it.

“Well, as he is a man, it’s against the law for him to step foot in Gerudo Town,” she replies archly, pointedly ignoring the compliment to his looks. What’s the point in refuting it when she’s more than aware of its validity? “Also, it’s his job as my appointed knight to always watch me.”

The Gerudo emits a noncommittal hum. Those cunning eyes dip low as she shifts in her cross-legged position, allowing Zelda a moment’s reprieve of that knowing look. The disguised princess exhales as the tension melts away and her shoulders can finally relax.

Thinking the conversation is over, Zelda turns around to exit to alley and sneak back into the palace, but halts in her tracks when the woman sighs.

“Ahh, how lucky you are, Princess. If I were but 60 years younger…”

With her back facing the Gerudo, Zelda’s lips pull back in a disgusted grimace. It appears the conversation isn’t over like she thought.

Wiping all trace of her revolted expression clean, Zelda starts back towards the Geurdo. Although now that she thinks about it, the woman probably wouldn’t have seen her expression anyway given the veil concealing the lower portion of her face.

A voice in the back of her mind worries that she’ll regret the decision not to leave while she had the chance, but it’s too late to escape now. Besides, she was taught to respect her elders. And even though as princess she is well within her right to walk away without another word, she feels it would be rather rude to do so.

Her lack of sealing power already makes her look bad in the public eye. She doesn’t need to add any more fuel to the fire.

Noticing her reappearance, the Gerudo cocks her head in consideration and smirks.

“I apologize, Princess. Have I made you jealous?”

Zelda makes a strangled sound in the back of her throat and reels back. Jealous?! Not to be disrespectful, but she’s absolutely not jealous of an old lady that has a .0000001% chance of being with Link.

As a researcher, it’s against her code to say that something has no chance at all of happening.

The Gerudo throws back her head and laughs, so loudly that Zelda whips her head around to check the area behind her and then scrutinizes the rest of the alley in the distance. Her heart is racing in her chest, nervous of a guard hearing the noise and unintentionally discovering her.

None show up, Hylia knows how, but Zelda is grateful for the blessing, however small.

“I merely jest, Your Highness,” the Gerudo finally wheezes, attempting take in a few shuddering breaths. Its apparent that she’s having trouble, but when Zelda moves to help—how, she doesn’t know—the Gerudo simply holds up a hand to indicate she’s fine, and Zelda respectfully backs off.

Thankfully, she manages to regain her breath. Suddenly, those eyes, somehow eerily glowing, are fixated on Zelda again, eliciting an apprehensive swallow from the princess.

“You fancy him, don’t you?” she says. It might have been phrased like a question, but it’s clear from her tone that she’s absolutely sure in her deduction.

Zelda could feel the blood rush to her face as her mouth drops open at the Gerudo’s bluntness. How did she reach that conclusion? Was it so obvious? Could other people tell how she felt about her knight?

Worse, did _Link_ know? 

“You-! I don’t-! How-?!”

How did the conversation escalate to this level?!

The elder woman chuckles. “Not to worry, Princess, your secret is safe with me,” she says, finishing off with a wink that causes Zelda’s blood pressure to spike for another matter entirely. She may be her elder, but how dare this woman expose her disguise with one look and her heart with only a few sentences?

“Now see here!” she huffs, clenching her fists at her sides. “I don’t know where you’re basing these outlandish assumptions, but they’re not true. What he and I have is a strictly professional relationship: I am the princess, and he is my appointed knight, dedicated to fight by my side against Calamity Ganon and protect me. There is no ‘fancying’ going on, least of all from me.”

The Gerudo’s smirk curls deeper as Zelda finishes her rather passionate speech.

“Methinks the vai doth protest too much.”

Zelda gasps, and oh does the Gerudo wish that she could see the entirety of her astonished reaction. Her eyes are comically wide, and while her vision isn’t what it used to be, the fierce blush extending to the tips of the vai’s ears are as clear as day...or night, in this case.

She extends a finger and crooks it, beckoning the young princess closer.

Zelda takes a step back instead, suddenly wary of this strange woman. Despite her frail and otherwise harmless demeanor, there’s something in the pit of Zelda’s stomach voicing its protests of obeying.

The Gerudo chuckles lowly. “Don’t worry, Princess, I don’t bite. I just want you to come closer. These walls have ears, you know.”

Zelda warily peers around, squinting her eyes to scrutinize every nook and cranny of the alleyway. It was late enough that most of the shops have already closed, and the only noise to be heard was the distant, talkative buzz coming from the late-night drinkers in The Noble Canteen from the other side of town. Other than that, it was a quiet, peaceful night.

Zelda doesn’t think there is anyone around to hear them. Nonetheless, she decides to humor the Gerudo and steps closer, bending down so their faces are inches apart. Besides, if this old woman wanted to hurt her in some way, she could easily make a run for it without fear of the Gerudo catching up to her.

The old woman smirks at her compliance, and Zelda is half-tempted to turn around and walk out of there out of sheer spite, when the Gerudo distracts her.

“I can help you, Princess,” she says, a mysterious lilt to her voice. Her eyes hold a cunning gleam that wasn’t like the others Zelda has seen tonight.

Leaving is now the furthest thing from Zelda’s mind. What does this Gerudo mean? How could she help her? Unless she knows the secret to obtain her sacred power, there isn’t much the Gerudo can do for her.

And yet, she asks anyway. Just to satisfy her curiosity.

“Help me? How do you mean to help me?”

The Gerudo doesn’t answer. A corner of her white-painted lips quirks up slyly, as she reaches to dig a hand in her cloth bag that, much like the blanket she sits on, looks like it has seen better days. The black material is worn so thin, it’s a miracle that whatever is lying inside hasn’t worn a hole completely through and fallen out.

At last, the Gerudo lets out a triumphant ‘ah!’ and takes her hand out of the bag. However, she doesn’t uncurl her fingers to reveal the contents of her palm, prompting Zelda to withhold an impatient sigh.

After shifting her gaze from side to side, apparently still paranoid of eavesdroppers, the Gerudo holds out her hand and reveals what’s awaiting within.

Zelda tilts her head. It’s a tiny glass bottle filled with a pink elixir. She is well informed about the colors and properties of all the elixirs out there, but she’s never seen a pink one before. The researcher inside her jumps at the chance for more knowledge, and she darts her eyes up at the Gerudo, silently begging her for more information.

“With this,” she says in a low murmur. Zelda is a bit unnerved by the way the Gerudo’s smirk takes a rather darker curve. Zelda redirects her stare at the pink concoction again, this time with a more critical eye.

“This is a love potion. Just a few drops of this will make even the most serious of knights break his resolve. He’ll be overcome with love and won’t be able to resist you.”

She gently tilts the bottle back and forth, causing the pink liquid to swish side to side. It reminds Zelda of a person teasing a dog with a juicy gourmet steak above their nose. Unfortunately for her, Zelda has more control than a drooling animal.

She stands back and crosses her arms, raising a brow at the intrusive woman.

“I appreciate the gesture, but I have no need or want for a love potion,” she tells her in a strained tone that still meets the level of politeness.

The Gerudo’s eyes widen at her refusal. “You mean to tell me he’s made a move?”

Zelda chokes. “O-Of course not!” she stammers, fingernails digging into the silky fabric covering her arms. If it wasn’t for that, she was certain that crescent moon shapes would’ve been left behind in her nails’ wake.

Taking a moment to recover her control, she breathes evenly.

“No, he has not,” she says at last. Calm, cool, and elegant as a princess should be. She tilts her chin slightly up as she adds, “Link is a gentleman.”

The Gerudo is undeterred, and she rolls her eyes. “Then it seems to me that you do need this.”

Zelda opens her mouth to protest, but the woman holds up a hand, effectively halting whatever the princess was about to say.

“I have lived many years, Princess, and in that time I have come to recognize an obvious case of a vai in denial. I can see the way you feel for that voe. Your eyes sharpen with focus whenever I mention him, like how you’re doing right now.”

Zelda scowls and jerks her head down, squeezing her eyes shut. In turn, she hears the Gerudo sigh in exasperation.

“Your ears twitch also-”

Zelda snatches the tips of her ears, as though hiding them from sight would negate the Gerudo’s point.

“And you get a strong blush that expands across your entire visage whenever I hint to your love for him.”

Zelda switches from covering her ears to her face.

The Gerudo groans, her stare rising upward to stare imploringly at the heavens for answers. “Why do vai like you have to be so stubborn?”

Zelda doesn’t deign the Gerudo with an answer. Apparently the Goddesses share the same opinion, as the alleyway remains cloaked in darkness and silence. The only thing that breaks the tranquility is the Gerudo clearing her throat.

The princess peeks from the open space between her fingers to see the Gerudo steepling her own, having put the love potion down. She narrows her eyes, and Zelda can’t help but compare her expression to those of the steely glares her father would pin on her whenever he reminded her of her ultimate duty to Hyrule.

She suppresses the sudden bout of anger that bubbles in her chest. She has to push it away entirely; her problem was with her father, not this Gerudo. Although, if the woman keeps insisting on this love potion, then there might be one.

Perhaps the Gerudo senses Zelda’s growing displeasure, for the hardened set of her eyes softens a bit.

“What you’re going through is a heavy burden to bear. You have the entire kingdom resting on your shoulders, with only your voe to share the weight. It’s clear how taken you are with him, and he with you. You don’t see the way he looks at you. He may try to keep his emotions subdued, but for someone who has lived so many years, who has been in love, and has seen it expressed—and not expressed-- countless times, you come to recognize a yearning gaze when you see it.”

Zelda stood mutely back, paralyzed. Was this woman telling the truth? Did Link really look at her like that when her back was turned? Could this woman truly see right through him, like how she does with her?

She thinks back to all their interactions, including the ones when she, regrettably, treated him with inexcusable abhorrence . Back then all she could see was an almost eerie impassiveness in those blue eyes. They should’ve shown with warmth; it wasn’t fair that a color so lovely should appear so lifeless.

But then they did. Little by little, after she apologized and they grew closer, warmth started to gradually seep into that previously vacant stare. Finally, she could look at him and ascertain how he felt in that given moment.

She’s seen plenty of his emotions already, ranging from amusement from the times she shared a funny story, to fierce determination in his battles, to disgust when she offered him frogs to taste, and the soft, content look he would adopt whenever she’d read passages about the ancient technology.

However, she’d never seen _yearning_ in his gaze, much less for her. Could this woman truly be correct in her assumptions?

Meanwhile, the Gerudo slowly grins. Good. It’s apparent she is finally reaching the girl. Or, at least, she is making the princess question her earlier mindset that there were no feelings of love shared between her and her voe.

She raises the vial again, catching Zelda’s attention. Teasingly, she shakes the potion side to side, not missing the way the princess’s eyes intently trace the liquid sliding back and forth.

“I know you have a duty to Hyrule. But even you and your voe deserve a break. It’s an arduous task, preparing to defend the kingdom from the threat of destruction. It’s enough to stress anyone, including headstrong princesses and stoic knights.”

She tilts her head, considering the bottle for a moment, before darting glittering eyes to a riveted Zelda.

Her lips tug upwards in a suggestive twist. “Why not relieve some of that stress?”

Briefly, Zelda considers her offer. She doesn’t consider much use in arguing anymore with the Gerudo, since that clearly hasn’t worked thus far. After all, she was right about Zelda’s feelings for Link. Why deny it at this point?

It’s a tempting proposal. Slip the potion in Link’s food or drink, and he’d shower her with the love she’d been craving from him as of late. He may be friendly with her now, but at the end of the day, all his focus was dedicated to the task of defeating Calamity Ganon. Romance was likely the furthest thing from his mind.

Now, she has a chance to fulfill her desires. Fantasies of a passionate Link stealing her away into an alcove and ravishing her senseless just weren’t cutting it anymore.

All she has to do is take the potion. Fantasy Link can easily become Reality Link.

And yet…

She sighs despondently. Hugging her arms, she inwardly shrinks onto herself.

“No. I won’t force him to love me; it wouldn’t be right.”

Even though it’s a tempting offer, she refuses. She wants Link to love her for real. She doesn’t want an artificial love born from an unknown mixture of dubious ingredients from a sketchy old woman in a back alley.

If she wants Link to see her in the romantic light, she’ll have to work for it, just like any other girl seeking love from another.

To her surprise, the Gerudo doesn’t disappointedly accept her answer, nor does she react with the indignation that Zelda had been expecting. Of all things, the Gerudo _laughs_.

“That’s impossible for even the most skilled of crafting potions!” she exclaims. But upon seeing the princess’s perplexed expression, the Gerudo elaborates.

“You can’t create something from nothing, Princess. This potion doesn’t force someone to fall in love. It’s more of a…” she trails off, rolling her eyes to the sky as she purses her lips and ponders for an accurate, yet simplistic, description. “An eye-opener, so to speak.”

Zelda’s confusion doesn’t alleviate, leading the Gerudo to sigh in exasperation.

“This potion,” she says, lightly waving it around in her hand, “finds the stirrings of love in a person’s heart and pounces on them, electrifies them, strengthens them. The person will feel that they’re finally realizing what was right in front of them the whole time. They’ll be seeing the light, so to speak.”

The corners of her mouth curl wickedly.

“Or,” she purrs, rolling the ‘r’.

Zelda feels a chill race down her spine that has nothing to do with the brisk, desert wind of the night. She hasn’t interacted with this Gerudo for long, but it has been long enough for her to learn that nothing good will come out of _that_ smirk.

“If the one who drinks the potion is already in love and is aware of their feelings, then it makes for a powerful aphrodisiac.”

Zelda could feel her cheeks flaming beneath her veil. Breath hitching in her throat, Fantasy Link makes his grand encore in her mind. Her eyes glaze over, lost in thoughts of crooking fingers, sinful grins, a husky voice whispering sweet nothings in her ear that render her knees weak, eager lips exploring every inch of her body, and marking his favorite spots with biting teeth.

The Gerudo waves the love potion temptingly in the air, carefree, as if she already knows what the princess will choose. The possibility is highly likely.

“So? What will it be, Princess?”

The green of Zelda’s eyes is darker as she languidly blinks, gradually returning to the real world, to this real offer, and this real chance to finally get something she desires, without spending time fruitlessly praying at springs.

She hesitates, perhaps considering any possible consequences, but apparently deems them nothing of concern and she nods.

The Gerudo smiles. “Excellent. I’m happy for _your_ impending happiness, Princess. So happy, that I won’t charge you a single rupee. And-”

At once, she stiffens, freezing in both posture and speech. Zelda opens her mouth, ready to ask if the woman is alright, but the Gerudo is quick to relax and subsequently acts like nothing has happened.

“It appears our time grows short, Princess,” she says, before lowering her voice so that only Zelda can hear, “Now, take this!”

She covers the potion with both hands and slides it to Zelda. Not a hint of pink is revealed during the entire exchange. Zelda is puzzled at first by the Gerudo’s rush to leave and secretive passing along the potion, but chalks it up to an old woman’s paranoia and goes along with it.

Although, the Gerudo is right. She should be heading back to the palace. The longer she stays out here, the longer she runs the risk of being discovered by a wandering guard.

Zelda quickly, yet sincerely, thanks the woman for her generosity before she hurries out of the alleyway. As she goes, she can hear the Gerudo’s calls of ‘Farewell!’ and ‘Good luck!’. Zelda cradles the precious bottle to her chest until she reaches her room.

.

.

.

She sighs serenely, finally able to relax. She straightens her legs on the frayed blanket that has seen better days. Her head rests against the wall, eyes slipped shut…and a knowing smirk slowly but surely stretches her lips. She cannot resist.

“Good night, Hero.”

A pair of Champion blue eyes narrow overhead on top of the wall.

As silently as he crept in, he slinks back into the darkness, returning to his duty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Gerudo's line, "Why not relieve some of that stress?" is a reference to my friend intangibly_yours's Zelink fic, Stress Relief. If you're looking for good Zelink sin, then I highly recommend checking it out ;)
> 
> The Gerudo in this story is inspired by a Gerudo seen in one of the alleys in Gerudo Town in Breath of the Wild. If you talk to her, she immediately sees right through Link's vai disguise xD


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took forever! I hope the 7,000 words make up for it ;) 
> 
> Also, as you might have noticed, I decided to bump the rating up to M. Nothing explicit happens, but some suggestive things do, and I felt more comfortable upping the rating.

Zelda turns the peculiar vial this way and that around her fingers, staring hard at the pink liquid contained inside, contemplating and questioning.

The dawn of a new day sheds light on what she has done under the concealment of night, and a mind freshly rested is able properly assess the situation without the burden of a day’s exhaustion, nor the pressures of a strange Gerudo, plaguing it.

Really, what had she been thinking? She should never have agreed to take this so-called ‘love potion’. For all Zelda knows, it could be a concoction of ingredients made to kill her hero before either of them could realize there was something wrong.

She had no idea who that Gerudo was, yet she took a dubious mixture from her all the same, with the intention of giving it to Link. Zelda didn’t know if that woman’s loyalty was to Hyrule or to Ganon. If the Gerudo was a Yiga or otherwise loyally bound to Ganon, wouldn’t she just love that? If the princess born with the blood of the Goddess, in a tragically ironic twist of fate, was the one who killed the hero fated to fight by her side?

And _oh_ , wouldn’t the sweet taste of victory be ever more savored, knowing how the princess felt about her hero?

Although, while the Gerudo had been mysterious—at times frustratingly so—she didn’t give off a malicious vibe. Nothing in her countenance suggested to Zelda that she wished to harm herself or Link. For a stranger who should not have cared a whit about her happiness, only interested in the results her sacred power would produce, she was rather invested in giving Zelda the opportunity to be happy and loved by Link.

She claimed that she merely wished to help Zelda and Link relieve their stress and essentially give in to their desires, but why?

Zelda could understand a romantic at heart wanting to see a couple get together, but she was the princess fated to seal away Calamity Ganon, and Link was the Hero chosen to help fight at her side. To all the citizens of Hyrule, they aren’t people; rather they are glorified tools solely crafted to fight the Calamity. And when that was done, they’d be put away in the toolbox until they were needed to make another repair. That’s their only role in life. Who cares if they’re happy?

Zelda cares. She knows Link does too, even if he rarely bears such a vulnerable part of himself to her eyes. She knows he has thoughts and feelings, wishes and goals that are separated from his destiny.

_“You don’t see the way he looks at you. He may try to keep his emotions subdued, but for someone who has lived so many years, who has been in love, and has seen it expressed—and not expressed—countless times, you come to recognize a yearning gaze when you see it.”_

It isn’t far-fetched to say he has desires stemming from the heart as well. But for her?

A flutter, like the wing beats of a summerwing butterfly in both heat and swiftness, alight in her stomach. Could he truly yearn for her as the Gerudo said?

Zelda squints at the bottle under new consideration. It doesn’t _look_ like poison; what fatal poison comes in the form of such a lovely shade of pink? Twisting it around, she peers closer, and notices a series of faint, nearly translucent letters etched onto the bottle. Upon further scrutiny, she sees that it’s a brief instruction on how to use the potion and below that, an ingredients list.

None of the ingredients are harmful. Then again, it could be a ploy to mask whatever really lay inside that bottle.

Since looking at the mixture alone isn’t doing much to help her determine its authenticity, she opts for ripping off the cork and bringing the bottle under her nose for a smell test.

She does a quick, experimental sniff. She inches back, eyebrows furrowed, prior to going back to the bottle to give it another few sniffs, each continuing longer than the last.

No amount of smelling changes the facts: the mixture has no smell at all. Given that it’s a love potion, Zelda expected it to have a heady scent that would immediately cloud her thoughts and render herself incapable of thinking about anything else other than Link.

Or kill her, if it was a special poison that could kill just by smelling it. But evidently this doesn’t appear to be the case. She feels fine; nothing has changed. She isn’t dead, her mind is functioning as normal, and she doesn’t feel an overwhelming urge to find Link and make her love known.

After a little deliberation, Zelda concludes that the potion doesn’t have a scent for either two reasons. The first, is that if she’s truly holding a love potion, then it can’t have a scent because the target might smell it and end up rejecting whatever drink had been laced with the potion.

The same could be said if it’s a poison, although for a much darker purpose. If the victim smells it, then the attempt on their life would be ruined.

Sight and smell aren’t enough. Hearing won’t help, and touch probably won’t either. If it was an acidic poison, it would’ve burned through the bottle by now.

That leaves just one more sense: taste.

Tasting an obscure mixture isn’t the smartest way to determine whether it’s poison; this is common sense. However, she muses with pursed lips and a tilted head, perhaps if she has but a drop it won’t prove fatal. After all, how much damage could a single drop do? If the substance is indeed a dangerous toxin as she fears, then such a small dosage likely wouldn’t do more than give her a stomachache, or perhaps a headache.

It wouldn’t kill her…probably.

Before she can think better of it, and disregarding the pair of blue eyes narrowed in a warning glare deep in the back of her mind, she slightly tips the bottle and lets a single, pink drop fall on her index finger.

It feels thin, like water. Hopefully it’s just as harmless.

It hits her then how incredibly foolish this idea is. Who tests to see if something is poisonous by _tasting_ it? It completely defeats the whole purpose!

But there’s no one else to test it, not that she’d let them. She would never risk an innocent person’s life like that. Yet if she plans to slip this potion to Link, she needs to be sure it’s not harmful to him. She could never forgive herself if he was hurt, or worse, killed by her hand.

It’s just a drop, she rationalizes. No poison is potent enough to kill its victim with such a small amount.

And so, once again ignoring the brief flash of that intense stare in her mind, practically yelling at her to cease this reckless cause, she darts out her tongue and licks the drop.

She is intrigued to learn that it has no taste. It appears that this mixture has yet another similarity to water, in touch, scent, and taste. Perhaps this isn’t a love potion or poison at all, and instead it’s just water colored with pink dye. A perfect scam for the average naïve woman who dreams of love to fall prey to, some would say.

This is the conclusion Zelda would’ve decided on, except for one contradiction. In order to run a successful scam, the guilty party involved must earn money from their fraudulent product(s). That’s what a scam is, to make money off something that doesn’t do what it’s said to do.

Zelda didn’t pay for the potion; it was a gift. The Gerudo gave her the entire bottle, free of charge. Why, the woman practically shoved it into her hands before sending her off! How could someone run a scam without collecting a single rupee out of it?

Unless it was a cruel joke being played on her? Fool the princess into thinking that, for just one moment, she can be happy and in love, thoroughly distracted from the looming threat of Calamity Ganon’s return weighing down her shoulders?

Zelda bites her lip and forces herself to breathe evenly, lest the disappointment cause her breath to stutter and her eyes to moisten.

She focuses on any possible changes to her body in the meantime, if only to not think about the possibly terrible joke done at her expense.

Her main concern was the substance being a toxin of some sort, likely in the murderous nature. But so far, she feels no changes. Her head is clear, her stomach is calm, and all the senses in her body are awake. She feels no pain or numbness, no shortening of the breath either.

She feels fine. Absolutely normal, the same as before she licked off that drop.

A knock at the door interrupts her musings. The Gerudo guard beyond the door announces that breakfast is ready to be served and asks if she would like a maid to help her dress.

Zelda declines but adds that she’ll be in the dining hall straightaway.

After dressing, she clips the Sheikah Slate to her hip. The potion she tucks away in the pouch attached to her belt, where it’ll stay until she’s determined whether to use it on Link. In the meantime, no one has need of seeing it.

* * *

Zelda feels fine throughout all of breakfast. She converses freely with Urbosa, eats her food with not an ounce of nausea, and not once does she feel dizzy. Afterward, she walks with the Gerudo Champion out of the palace and into the town to reunite with Link on the other side since this is their final day visiting.

Zelda is almost 100 percent certain that the substance given to her by the old Gerudo woman has no adverse effects upon consuming it. She feels absolutely fine, and not even the desert heat is enough to bother her.

She still feels fine as she enters the little tunnel acting as the main entryway into Gerudo Town. Her head is clear, everything is working properly, there’s no need to be concerned.

She is fine.

Smiling, she steps out of the tunnel only to lock gazes with the waiting figure of her knight.

_Oh._

She is _not_ fine.

For inconclusive reasons, the very sight of him has the breath catching in her throat. She feels a heat that has nothing to do with the desert creep up her neck and flood her cheeks. Her suddenly dry lips part, her tongue making quick work to wet them, and a thought unbidden invades her mind, in that she wishes it was Link’s tongue darting out for a taste instead.

Something in her stomach flips, just as she feels a strange heat pool between her thighs. With a quiet sound of something between a strangled groan and a gasp, she shifts, pressing her legs together and straightens her spine, hoping it’ll help the feeling go away.

To her dismay, it does nothing to diminish the heat. If anything, it only fans the flames, and Zelda’s eyes are dangerously close to fluttering shut. She has an unrelenting urge for _something_ down there. Something to take away this mounting pressure coiling inside her. Something like…

As if of their own doing, her eyes draw back up to Link’s.

That makes it even worse.

Because now she’s imagining scenarios in which Link can help _relieve_ her of this intimate problem. And they’re way worse than anything she’s fantasized about doing with Link before.

Suddenly it isn’t her pants that’s creating the friction between her legs as she squirms to soothe the ache; it’s his hand. Gently rubbing up and down, teasing yet alluring and frustrating all at once, never letting her reach the precipice of pleasure.

And it isn’t Urbosa leaning down to murmur in her ear; it’s Link, his lips poised at her ear, curling up in a devilish smirk as he sees her breath hitch, rendering her weakened knees into chuchu jelly as he huskily whispers,

“Are you alright, little bird?”

…What?

Zelda opens her eyes, she hadn’t realized she closed them until now, and takes several breaths.

What was that? She’s never had such salacious thoughts like those, well, not outside the privacy of her bedchambers. It was like a cloud of lust overtook her mind as soon as she dared to look at Link, with all thoughts of bidding fond farewells to Urbosa completely vanishing, until he was all she could focus on.

Link, standing straight with his broad shoulders, with not a single bead of sweat dotting his forehead. Likely the work of a chilly elixir prepared ahead of time. That’s her knight; so resourceful, isn’t he?

Link, wearing the Champions Tunic she sewed with her very own hands, whose color is nearly identical to the shine of his eyes. Those same eyes, that which she could only dream of being on the receiving end of, containing the same passionate hunger he displayed when cooking.

Link, with hands encased in fingerless gloves that could draw the Master Sword at a moment’s notice. She wonders, are his palms rough and calloused, worn by years of training with the sword, or are they smooth and soft, effectively protected by the leather?

Upon thinking of such hands, an array of images floods her mind, mainly of ways he could put his hands to other, more…enjoyable uses.

Like furiously sifting his fingers through her hair and grabbing a fistful of locks to hold her in place, before pressing a searing kiss to her lips that robs her of her senses. Maybe then, he could run them down her sides, tracing and memorizing every dip and curve of her body, and cursing the clothing restricting her skin from his wandering touch. Perhaps after that, he’d seize her hips to jerk her impossibly closer to him, and then use them to attend to her most urgent demand, in removing the ache that has struck back with a newer, stronger fervor that has her releasing a shuddering breath and clenching her thighs.

“Zelda?” she hears Urbosa ask, prompting her to snap back to reality.

What is going on with her? Yes, she’s attracted to Link, but she has never let him distract her this severely! So, why-?

 _“If the one who drinks the potion is already in love and is aware of their feelings.”_ The lilting, practically taunting words of the Gerudo echo in her ears. _“Then it makes for a powerful aphrodisiac.”_

_Oh no._

So. It _is_ a love potion, after all. But the Gerudo said that the dosage was a few drops, and Zelda only had one. One measly, little drop that barely covered the tip of her finger shouldn’t have this much potency!

The abrupt, warm touch of Urbosa’s hand upon her forehead snaps her from her flustered thoughts.

“You look flushed,” Urbosa murmurs, “But you don’t feel warm…”

Link, always eager to protect her at any sign of trouble, is quick to jog over to her. The proximity is nearly too much for her to handle, and she hopes his ears don’t pick up the muffled, embarrassingly needy whimper from her throat.

Apparently, his concern for her overtakes all of his attention, and his eyes continue roaming over her figure to check for any injuries.

She’s isn’t naïve enough to believe it could be for any other reason, whether she’s under the influence of a love potion or not.

When Link doesn’t find anything, he looks up and shoots an accusatory glare at Urbosa. Not many are brave enough to look at the Gerudo Chief like that, not to mention she’s his fellow Champion!

Urbosa smiles knowingly. “Do not worry, Link. I have not allowed any harm to come to her since your vigilant stare has left her. She was perfectly fine just this morning. I’m sure it must be the heat or-”

“Yes!” Zelda interrupts, snatching the opportunity for a valid excuse. “Yes, it must be the heat.” She fans herself to add to the ruse and giggles nervously. “It’s a little hotter than usual today, isn’t it?”

Urbosa raises a brow, apparently not wholly convinced, but Link doesn’t waste any time for petty skepticism and reaches behind him for his pouch. Not a second later he produces a vial full of chilly elixir and wordlessly offers it to her.

Zelda thanks him with a grateful smile, and careful to avoid his fingers (his nearness is bad enough, imagine how bad the need would be if she actually _touched_ him), takes the bottle and twists off the cork.

Hopefully the chill of the elixir will temper down the burn in her core. She absolutely cannot spend the day in this state; she’d literally go mad with desire! Without another moment to spare she tips her head back and downs the potion, shivering as the cooling liquid travels down her throat and gradually settles in her stomach.

Zelda breathes a sigh of relief as she feels the budding pressure inside her loosen. Though not gone completely, it’s a lot more bearable now. Her mind slowly finds a spot in the lustful fog, allowing clarity to seep in. Now, instead of wanting nothing more than to pounce on her knight and have her deliciously sinful way with him, she’d settle for a perfectly innocent, simple kiss instead.

Or two. Or three.

It seems that she overlooked one fact, in that when you combine hot and cold, you create…

Steam.

* * *

For a tiny bottle, it weighs as heavy as a rock roast in her pouch.

They had finally stopped for the night to make camp. The lingering effects of the love potion hadn’t faded away until a couple hours later, much to her annoyance. It had caused her to be on edge for a good portion of the day and, to her dismay, she had to limit any contact she had with Link and maintain a good distance between them. It miserably reminded her of _before_ , back when she so absorbed in her own problems, she failed to see his, and unfairly took out her frustrations on him.

Link must have noticed the change in her countenance. He was too perceptive not to. Although, anyone with an ounce of comprehension could tell that something was wrong. In the few times she braved a peek at him, he always met her with a creased brow and a slight frown. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to tell her that he was perturbed.

Earlier today, Zelda had been tense and aloof out of fear that the heat would return and she wouldn’t be able to control herself. Now, she’s nervous for an entirely different reason.

Because Link is currently making creamy heart soup, making use of the voltfruit and hyrdomelons he collected in the Gerudo Desert during their stay.

She’d only get one shot to lace his portion with the love potion.

If Zelda had gone through _that_ this morning after only tasting a drop, she could only imagine the passionate frenzy that would overtake Link after a real dosage.

And she. Can’t. _Wait._

Unfortunately, she’s ultimately forced to. Link may be a wonderful cook, but not even he can make soup in mere seconds.

So, she sits idly by the fire, outwardly patient but inwardly anxious, the bottle still lying in her pouch at the ready. She would’ve preferred to have it in her hand for a smoother maneuver to pour it in his soup, but she was too scared that Link would see the bottle even if she tried to be as discreet as possible in removing it. The man has eyes sharper than that of an islander hawk.

Then suddenly, at last, her chance is close to arriving.

He’s supposedly finished the soup, since he’s picked up their wooden bowls and spoons, prepared to start dishing out their portions.

When he’s filled one bowl, as much as her body is twitching to act, she doesn’t strike. Because she knows, from habit, that Link always gives her food first before he thinks of tending to himself.

And she’s rewarded for her restraint as she carefully takes the bowl from him with a soft ‘thank you’. She deliberately brushes her fingers against his as she pulls away and watches for his reaction.

It’s subtle, but there, in how his hands briefly pause in mid-air before returning for his own bowl. Anyone else might’ve missed the slight action, but Zelda prides herself on adapting to pick up any vague social cues Link might drop since getting to know him.

She most likely caught him off-guard with the momentary contact after avoiding him all day. She hopes it comes across as a reassurance that she’s not going to repeat today’s distant attitude with him.

And a small, teeny tiny part of her sparks with the hope he also interprets it as a flirtation.

Whatever he views it as, she can’t tell since he refuses to look at her. He says nothing as he picks up his bowl and spoons in a generous helping of soup. Zelda keenly observes him and waits for the moment to strike.

He returns the ladle in the cooking pot. That’s when she makes her move.

Her eyes drift over his shoulder and her mouth drops open in the picturesque expression of fright. The gasp that tears out of her throat might sound a tad overdramatic to her ears, but it gets the job done.

In a flash, Link puts his bowl down and grabs the sheathed Master Sword left on the ground beside him. He swiftly unsheathes it and spins around, sword at his side and ready to slash his imaginary opponent.

There isn’t much time until he realizes he’s been fooled. Zelda must take advantage of the few precious seconds she’s been granted.

She makes quick work of slipping the potion from her pouch and uncorks it with her thumb. Next, she leans over the cooking pot, careful not to singe herself on the flames below nor let her hair fall in the simmering soup. With one last glance to make sure he isn’t looking at her, she tips the bottle over his bowl and lets half of it empty before she reels back and corks it again.

She remembers the Gerudo’s instructions from the night before, in that Link only needed a few drops for it to work, but she doesn’t really know Link like Zelda does. It would take the force of an earthquake for that man to lose control and finally act on his lust; a few drops wouldn’t do a thing to him. It would probably make him hot and bothered, but not nearly enough to lose himself.

Link turns around just in time to see Zelda holding her bowl, spoon full of broth poised to her lips as she adopts an innocently surprised expression.

“Oops, I thought I saw something. Probably just a shadow, or a rabbit or something. I apologize for my mistake.”

Her apology doesn’t erase the suspicious glint in his eye. He holds her stare a few seconds longer, the air between them so tense that Zelda has to mentally repeat to herself not to fidget, and for Hylia’s sake, _do not_ look away.

There’s no way Link saw what she did. He can’t; his back was turned the entire time. The Hero may be immensely skilled, but even he can’t see out of the back of his head. Then why is he pinning her in place with that distrustful stare? It almost makes her want to admit what she did, drop to her knees and beg for forgiveness for deceiving him.

Almost, but not quite. She’s already come this far; she isn’t backing down now.

Link sighs in resignation and sits back down on the ground. He’s not opposed to Zelda playing a joke on him, he just wishes she would’ve admitted it in the end instead of continuing with that façade.

Looks like he’ll have to teach her how to prank someone properly, he reflects with an amused quirk of his lips, prior to wrapping them around the spoon and finally starting on his dinner.

It tastes divine. As usual, per his standards.

Link doesn’t voice an invitation for conversation as he works to hurriedly eat his soup, focusing all his concentration on quenching his hunger as fast as possible without slurping and looking like a total slob.

Not that he expected Zelda to respond in kind, given how withdrawn she’s been all day.

The bowl is halfway empty by the time he slows down, pondering on what could be bothering her.

The sealing power that continues to evade her plagues her every waking moment heavily. However, it usually takes a vocal reminder about it, or another fruitless attempt to pray for it at a Spring, for her attitude to abruptly shift and become melancholy. To his chagrin, it’s regularly her own father that puts her down and causes Zelda’s bouts of depression, leaving Link with the work of cheering her up however he can.

And while Link loves and strives to make Zelda happy, he wishes it wasn’t a necessity as oftentimes as it has proven to become.

He knows Urbosa wouldn’t have tormented her about her power. She was perhaps the only other Champion beside himself that openly tried to comfort and support Zelda.

Also, the Gerudo seemed to be a…more accepting people. At least, if they disapproved of their princess’s failure to unlock her power, they were a lot more discreet about it compared to the loudly whispering gossipmongers in the castle.

Thus, he doubted any of the Gerudo caused Zelda’s distance with him today. Although, there was that one Gerudo he saw last night conversing with Zelda.

That reminds him; he still has to have a talk with her about sneaking out at night. Who knows what kind of danger she could’ve been in? He nearly had a heart attack when he peeked in her room and saw the large, four-poster bed with the gauzy drapes drawn and the mattress empty.

He feels a blush creep up his neck and the next spoonful of soup might’ve been swallowed a bit more shakily.

He’s aware of the implications of what looking in a maiden’s room, much less the Princess of Hyrule’s room, might entail. But in his defense, he was only making sure she was safe! The windows in all the buildings in Gerudo Town, including the palace, are all wide, open spaces big enough for an assassin to easily climb through. And with the Yiga so close, he’s not willing to risk her safety, even if it meant dressing like a woman to bypass the ‘No Voe’ law and checking her room at night.

Thus, his shock was great indeed when he made his routine check and came up empty. He barely got to the alley in time to see the elder Gerudo woman hand something to Zelda before shooing her off, then cheekily bidding him a good night.

Was she the cause of Zelda’s taciturn mood? Or was it for a different reason?

Bowl empty, he sets it aside and looks up at her, either to ask about her wellbeing or to lecture her about sneaking off at night, he isn’t sure, but is struck with a strong sense of _something_ and all the air rushes out of his lungs.

Like a man dying of thirst, he drinks her in, desperate to memorize every detail he might’ve missed in previous perusals of her bewitching visage.

Were her eyes always such a deep, alluring green that beckoned to him with every flutter of her lashes? Were her lips always so full and pink, begging for him to kiss them so thoroughly that no other man could compare and she’d be ruined forever? Was her hair always so inviting, the shining strands calling for his fingers to sift through to his heart’s content, so that he may finally have the answer once and for all if it was as soft as he imagined?

Noticing the covetous longing in her knight’s unwavering gaze, Zelda’s lips curl into a wicked grin that leaves him swallowing and dealing with a sudden, uncomfortable strain in his pants.

Link bites his lip and shuts his eyes when he sees her stand. He wouldn’t be able to bear it if she came closer. His face feels immensely hot despite the cool night air. A bead of sweat trails down a burning cheek as he releases a shuddering breath.

What is wrong with him? He’s always been painfully aware that Zelda is beautiful, has been since the first day he was blessed to see her. He’s dreamed of being with her…ahem, _intimately_ , but he’s never been so close to losing control and acting on his lustful compulsions until now.

He doesn’t have a drop of noble or royal blood running in his veins. She has the blood of Hylia running through hers. He’s a knight, granted a highly ranked knight, but still just a mere knight. She’s the Princess of Hyrule, the second-most powerful position in the land next to the King.

He can’t act on these desires, can’t wrench her close and make his passionate dreams on lonely nights come true.

It’s wrong. Reprehensible. Disgraceful. Disreputable. Dishonorable.

He can’t. He can’t. He—!

“Are you alright?” her warm, honeyed, mellifluous voice washes over him. It makes his ears cry out to hear more of her lovely voice, especially since she was so close yet so far away from his reach.

Wait.

Opening his eyes to gauge where she is, his fears are proven true when he finds her kneeling by his side. Her head is cutely tilted, indicating an innocent concern for him. Her golden hair thus falls to the side, tempting him to act on his earlier desire to run his fingers through it.

Her eyes, those captivating, doe-like eyes that threaten to draw him in and lose himself forever, flicker downwards.

The worried pout of her lips stretches to a smirk that reminds him of a cat that caught the canary.

He follows her line of sight, and to his horror finds a considerable tent in his pants large enough that the old ‘the fabric just got bunched up’ excuse could never work.

His face flames for an entirely different reason and he quickly brings up his legs to shield the embarrassing show of arousal. Although, he quickly regrets it as the sharp movement creates a satisfying friction between his swollen length and the fabric of his trousers, eliciting a choked groan to slip past his lips.

Link cannot believe his deplorable behavior. She is the Princess of Hyrule; she deserves a gentleman who doesn’t turn into the equivalent of a drooling dog upon looking at her.

He hears her approach and he squeezes his eyes shut tighter. Goddesses, he hates how the prospect of having her closer only encourages a rush of heat to flood his lower regions.

“Link?” she asks, the sound of his name on her lips prompting him to open his eyes. She doesn’t appear rightfully offended on her behalf, nor disgusted with him with his wretched excuse for etiquette.

She is _concerned_ of all things.

Her eyebrows are lightly furrowed, creating a pinched area between them that he wants to use his thumb to smooth over. His hand twitches at the idea, but he clenches it into a fist before it develops a mind of its own and disregards his weakening grasp of control.

“Are you alright?” she murmurs, and to his alarm, shifts to her hands and knees and c _rawls_ closer to him.

The sight triggers an accompaniment of erotic images that he has no business to be thinking of. He feels his manhood twitch in excitement and he clenches his teeth, heartbeat roaring in his ears as she comes closer.

It is paramount that she doesn’t touch him or come any closer. The pathetic semblance of the self-control he once prided himself on will surely snap.

He hastily starts to crawl backwards. Zelda frowns, and instead of getting the hint, she continues forward.

Wholly unbidden, a voice then whispers through the haze of desire that has since clouded his mind. They’re sinful words he has always squashed during the day before they could take root, but never failed to haunt him with a vengeance at night.

Unlike his rational side when he was awake, his subconscious never discouraged those forbidden, amorous thoughts, and it was proven so on days he’d wake up with a sheen of sweat coating his face, himself hard as a rock, and a lingering image of the princess behind the closed lids of his eyes, face twisted in pleasure from the throes of a passionate dream.

 _Let her come_ , the devilish voice whispers, silky and agonizingly tempting to obey. Let her crawl to him, _over_ him. Let her lips tilt into a smirk that beckoned his own to cover. Let one of her fingers teasingly trail down his chest, tracing over the contours of muscle, leaving a blazing path in her wake and himself a shivering mess.

It would be so easy. He could lean up, grab her around that waist he knew his arm could perfectly wrap around, and pull her to him, molding her to his body while he ravished her senseless, until ancient technology and the like were forgotten and the only thing she could remember was his name.

She’d breathe it in his ear like a prayer, and unlike the ones to the Goddess that yielded no results, this time he would personally see to it that this one would be readily answered. At last, he could finally unbutton that blasted collar that barred his view of the pale column of her throat, and taste with his tongue and mark the smooth, creamy skin with his teeth to declare to all, especially to that infuriating court bard that had the gall to think otherwise, that she is his.

They are destined for each other, after all. He, with the spirit of the Hero, and Zelda, born with the blood of Hylia. Over countless lifetimes they have sought each other out, and it may be the optimist part of him, but he believes that there had to be at least one incarnation where the princess and her hero lived happily ever after. Why shouldn’t he and Zelda have that?

They are meant for each other and it’s about time he acted on it. Duty, propriety, societal expectations, and strict kings be damned.

Zelda falters at the look on her knight’s face, swallowing as a bolt of electrifying heat strikes in her abdomen.

Link’s eyes, that Zelda had once compared to the waters of Lake Hylia, have now darkened to resemble those of the Lanayru Sea. Hooded and intently focused on solely her, they burn with a raw, ravenous hunger that threatens to burst through the rapidly weakening barrier of restraint keeping it at bay and make itself physically known.

His jaw is tight and his teeth, that suddenly appear as sharp as a wolf’s under the glow of the moon, are bared in a silent snarl. A rumbling growl, just barely audible, reaches her ears, and the uncharacteristic sound emitting from the depths of her knight’s throat prompt a pleasurable shiver to race down her spine and her toes to curl in her boots.

She licks her lips, and Link is invaded by scenarios of other uses for her tongue. Like dancing with his own in a searing kiss that robbed them both of their awareness. Or licking a trail down his neck, biting and sucking to produce marks that would resemble the ones he’d leave on her, to show everyone that he is _her_ knight and no one else’s.

He already accepted the fact a long time ago that he is hers, regardless if she wants him or not.

Another idea for her tongue hits him. The erotic image has him dragging his fingers through the dirt, leaving grooves in their wake so that he wouldn’t use them to grab her and make the fantasy a reality.

Because if what he pictured really happened tonight, the memory would haunt his dreams for years to come. It’s enough to nearly lose himself, just imagining that tantalizing tongue wrapped around his-

“Link?” she asks softly. She reaches a hand to him, and a voice shouts in the back of his mind, barely heard underneath the influence of the lust affecting him, how he cannot do this.

_She’s the princess! You are a knight under oath! Stop this at once! This is reprehensible and dishonorable and-_

“Link?” she asks again, cutting his rationale off.

He hears his heart pound in his ears. He lets loose a long, shuddering sigh. His stomach flips in anticipation. His length twitches and practically begs him to throw caution to the wind and just bury himself in her to the hilt already.

He can’t.

He will.

He can’t.

He wants to.

 _Oh, Hylia,_ he wants to.

He ca-

Her fingers skim the top of his knee.

Somehow, he finds the last, faint vestiges of control within him. He seizes them, lest they fade away forever and he’s at the mercy of this unforgiving heat, then tears himself away from her, breaking into a brisk pace toward the forest, leaving her reeling in shock.

“Link?! Where are you going?”

He grunts and hisses a curse low enough for her not to hear. It’s never been so painful to walk away from her, both mentally and—he glances down at the considerable bulge in his pants—physically.

“To relieve myself,” he bites back, perhaps a tad harsher than he meant, but deigns it a matter to resolve at another time before he marches into the thick of the forest.

At the base of a tree, deep enough in the woods where he won’t be heard, he rips down his trousers and wraps a hand around himself.

He comes imagining it’s her mouth.

* * *

When he eventually returns to the little campsite, Zelda is tucked away in her sleeping bag and turned away from him.

“We’re returning to Gerudo Town tomorrow. I forgot my notebook and it’s integral to my research.”

Her tone is curt and brokers no argument.

He doesn’t offer one and after putting away the soup to use for another night, and tossing in a few twigs to keep the fire burning, he retires to his own sleeping bag.

* * *

“You’re a fraud!”

The Gerudo woman snaps her head up in astonishment. The young princess she’d helped but a day ago is pointing an accusatory finger in her face, visibly seething beneath the vai clothing, apparently all sense of decorum tossed out the window.

She blinks, then speaks calmly, because out of the two of them it seems that she must be the one to approach this with a level head. “And how am I a fraud, Princess?”

“It didn’t work on him,” she grouses, folding her arms together. “He was repulsed by me, starting _crawling away_ from me when I tried to approach him! You know what he did when I dared to touch him? He ripped himself away from me as if I was the slimiest, most disgusting creature alive and went to _throw up_ in the forest!”

The Gerudo balks at this. The princess’s shoulders are heaving from her tirade, fingers curled into white-knuckled fists.

“How much did you give-?” the Gerudo tries to ask only to get cut off.

“I gave him half the bottle! You were wrong, he doesn’t _yearn_ for me like you said.” Her voice drops to a low murmur, and her previously folded arms shift so that she’s holding herself, as if she’s shielding herself from the shame.

“He may not hate me as he might have before. But he definitely doesn’t harbor any attraction for me as you spoke of.”

Her head bows down, and the Gerudo swears she can feel her heart break when she hears a choked sniffle.

“I can’t believe I so foolishly allowed myself to think otherwise.”

The Gerudo shakes her head in utter disbelief, unable to make heads or tails of it. How could her potion have not worked? And after such a heavy dosage! Even the most stoic of knights would’ve fallen to their knees, completely at the mercy of the object of their desires. Link should’ve been no different.

Unless…

“Princess,” she says in a broken whisper. Perhaps she was wrong. Perhaps she was starting to see things in her old age. Regardless of how the princess might take it, she must know so she can move on as quickly as possible. “Did you read the fine print?”

“The what?” she asks, picked her head up. The Gerudo frowns at the shine of unshed tears in a pair of eyes that should never have need of them.

“The fine print on the bottle,” she clarifies. “Did you read it?”

Zelda shakes her head, then reaches into a silken pocket to retrieve the vial. As she claimed, there’s a considerably less amount of potion left. About half’s worth.

She turns it over in her fingers and brings it up closer to her eyes. It’s difficult to see in the dark, yet she’s able to manage.

“Warning: Do not consume if allergic to hearty radish, hearty blueshell snail, hearty lizard, silent shroom-”

“No, no!” The Gerudo admonishes, “Not that!”

“…Caution: May not work if subject is already in love with another.”

The Gerudo’s face is solemn, her words grim. “I apologize, Princess, for misleading you. It was never my intention to hurt you. But if that potion truly didn’t work as you said, then the only explanation is that he loves someone that isn’t you. I deeply apologize, Your Highness.”

Zelda is too flustered to respond to her apology and the subsequent, respectful bow of her head. Who could be the other person that Link loves? He doesn’t spend time with anyone in the castle, most of it being devoted to staying vigilant at her side. She can’t recall any connections he might have mentioned having outside the castle. No one except…

…Mipha?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of the more sinful things I've ever written, I hope I did a good job :)


End file.
